


Dragon Barrel Brandy

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, References to Torture, That said I end on a lighter note, What the eff happened in Draco's room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: This part answer the question of what seriously bad thing happened to Draco in his bedroom just before sixth year.But then I get the gang together for some good natured teasing :-)





	Dragon Barrel Brandy

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Before you read this, you might want a blanket and a cookie or some ice cream. Depending on how much you love Draco (and Harry), you might also want a box of tissues. But I get it over quickly :-)

Harry and Draco lay curled up in bed after an evening of intense shagging, which was after an afternoon walking around muggle London trying to figure out what to do for an official date.Harry had eventually decided on the clich é of dinner and a movie. Draco had never really been interested in muggle entertainment before, so it worked out for the best as a new and fascinating experience for him.

Harry chuckled softly. “You know, I could never quite figure out how to feel on this day.”

“What do you mean?” Draco wondered.

“Just that I defeated Voldemort, so everyone wants me to be happy and not think about all those who died – and I suppose that I am rather happy that I stopped him from being an evil wanker taking over the world.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Draco murmured. “I really don't want to know what my life would be like if you hadn't.”

“Me either,” Harry muttered in agreement. Then he sighed. “On the other hand, I was always rather sad and depressed on this day because I'd lay in bed all day staring at the marriage certificate on my wall, wondering what it would be like if it was real.”

“How insane is it that we managed to get married exactly a year to the day before you defeated V-v-v, bah! The Dark Lord.”

Harry chuckled and kissed Draco. “Yes, I did actually find that rather ironic, considering that it was your wand that I was using during the Final Battle. I suppose that fate really wanted to make sure that we were bound together in every way possible.”

Draco kissed him and they did nothing else – except cuddle – for a long time. Then they returned to simply snuggling and enjoying the warmth of each other. Eventually, Draco sighed and sat up.

“Muffy, bring me the box in my closet labeled 2-5-97,” he ordered. (If you are confused, you're probably American like me, lol! In America, that would be listed as 5-2-97, but unless I am remembering it wrong, it's backwards, er, the other way around in Britain, lol.)

Since the magic of house elves let them hear their master over vast distances, Muffy heard the order and complied. She appeared a moment later and held the box out to Draco. “Master,” she stated respectfully, bowing her head.

Draco took the box and dismissed her. When he opened the box, he withdrew the sole contents and set the box aside. Then he held it up for Harry.

“Yes, I did drink some of this over the years, but never more than a shot at a time since I didn't want to use it all up too quickly,” he explained.

“You still _have_ that?!” Harry asked incredulously as he took the bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy that still had between a fourth and a third of the bottle left.

Draco smirked impishly. “I wasn't looking forward to drinking the rest and waking up married to someone else!”

Harry chuckled, and then tilted his head and raised the bottle. “You want to drink some since it's our tenth anniversary and all?”

Draco nodded. “That's why I asked Muffy to bring it here. I think we should drink some. Not enough to get blind drunk, but enough to...”

“What?” Harry wondered curiously.

“Talk...”

Harry abruptly paled. “Talk?”

Draco merely nodded before taking the bottle back and opening it so that he could take a large swig directly from the bottle. Then he held it out to Harry again. Swallowing nervously, Harry took a large gulp.

Then he coughed. “That's still as powerful as ever!”

Draco laughed. “Yes...” He took another drink. Between the two of them, they decided that the equivalent of four shots each was enough to get them properly drunk without putting them in the seriously stupid and goofy stage.

Feeling warm and a bit like he was floating, Draco lay back down and looked at the ceiling. “After my father was sent to Azkaban, the Dark Lord took me aside and told me that I was now the man of the house, and as such, I was expected to take my father's place. He  _ever so graciously_ gave me the choice of whether or not I'd like the Dark Mark. I knew that if I refused, he'd either kill me outright or threaten my mother or do something else until I agreed, so I simply... agreed,” he sighed and paused to take one more small sip.

“Things were fine for a while. He seemed rather pleased that I was being a good boy. A good lackey. But then he seemed to notice that my words and actions were less than sincere. We talked a lot about what he wanted to achieve and eventually – reluctantly, feeling like it was my only choice – I mentioned that there might be a way to get into Hogwarts. He let that stew in his mind for a few days...”

Draco drew in a shuddering breath, and when Harry moved to rub his arm or hold his hand, Draco shook his head and pushed Harry slightly away.

“In the middle of the night – I was sound asleep because I didn't really have nightmares back then. I had a general reason to be afraid each day, but nothing truly bad had ever happened, so I supposed that I trusted that I was more or less safe. I only had basic wards on my door. They were probably child's play for... him...”

He stopped to clear his throat, and then pressed on. “The Dark Lord and my aunt Bellatrix and I am not even sure who else because they were wearing their masks – they came into my room and grabbed me out of my bed without bothering to announce themselves or wake me first. Naturally, they had used better wards on my door so that nothing would be heard by anyone – and even if someone thought to check up on me, they wouldn't be able to break in. I was well and truly at their mercy.”

“Draco... you don't have to tell me,” Harry whispered, now half certain that he didn't want to know after all.

Draco scoffed derisively. “Shockingly, I  _want_ to tell you. I just...” he trailed off with a shrug. “It's hard to talk about.”

“I had Voldemort in my head for _years_ ,” Harry reminded him. “I have a pretty good idea what sort of sick and twisted shite he was capable of.”

Draco simply nodded. Then he took a deep breath. 

“'You're going to do something very important for me, Draco,' he said. 'You're going to kill that old fool that continues to be an irritating thorn in my side. And I've decided that you are _also_ going to do as you suggested. You're going to fix up that cabinet so that my loyal followers can get into the school and take it over. Killing Dumbledore is by far more important to me, so use those Slytherin skills you have and figure out how to get the job done. That said, I suppose it might be amusing to wait until the cabinet is fixed so that my followers can be there to witness it for me.'

“'But make no mistake, Draco, you _will_ kill him or I will kill you. But first, I think I should show you what will happen if you fail – before I kill you, that is. Give you a proper incentive to succeed.'”

Draco fell silent for a long moment, and Harry tried once more to comfort him, only to be pushed away again.

“One of the masked men held me down while the other broke what felt like every bone in my body. It actually wasn't, just the biggest ones, mainly in my arms and legs, but at the time... There were also cutting hexes in places that would hurt but not bleed much. The Dark Lord himself cast the Cruciatus Curse on me at random to let me know that he was not above torturing a person himself.

“When it was all done – which just so happened to be when they pushed me to the point where I stopped crying and barely whimpered anymore – they threw me on the floor and just stood there staring at me for a while. It seemed like forever at the time, but I think it was only a minute or so. And then the Dark Lord had my aunt vanish all the broken bones and feed me Skelegrow. She also rubbed Dittany on my wounds and gave me a blood replenshing potion. Then they left.”

“So... wait,” Harry whispered, half wanting to simply smother Draco in a hug and never let him go again, and the other half wanted to ask morbid questions. “So, you're saying that they left you laying on the floor with no bones in your arms or legs – and thus no way to move – without so much as a pain potion or a sleeping potion?”

Draco nodded once. “Exactly.”

Harry closed his eyes and wondered if he should get a whole lot drunker so that he'd forget this utterly horrifying mental image. 

“After that,” Draco continued. “Masked men would come into my room at night to simply startle me awake and laugh out a warning to not disappoint our Lord. Once or twice, they'd take the frustrations of their day out on me by beating me up a little, but nothing that couldn't be healed up right away by even an incompetent wizard. I quickly got very good at waking from a sound sleep at the slightest noise ready to defend myself. The little torments continued on during the hols and the next summer until I finally learned how to cast a ward strong enough to stop them. My only saving grace was that after my _win_ at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord made it clear that no one was allowed to rough me up any more. Which meant that when they startled me awake at night, it was simply to scare me.”

“God!” Harry exclaimed, rubbing his hand over his face. He drew his knees to his chest and hugged them. “That's seriously fucked up!”

“Yes,” Draco murmured, taking one last sip of brandy.

Then Harry sighed. “When I was a newer Auror, some sick fuck decided that he was going to prove that he was better than Voldemort.  _Not_ by killing me like the other stupid nutters that hide in the dark and nasty places of the world like cockroaches try to do, but by proving to me just how useless and worthless I am.

“He lured me to a trap, which was actually intended to simply put us all to sleep, so _that_ part wasn't as terrible as when my team got injured and a man died, but well, once I was unconscious, he brought me someplace else. A place that he had carefully designed so that magic could not be used. No matter how angry or out of control I got, I couldn't do a single thing.”

Harry took a breath and rested his head on his knees for a moment. “He bound me to a chair and made me watch as he stripped the muscle off a muggle man one group at a time until the man was long dead – which in and of itself took a long time. Then he raped the man's wife and stabbed and choked her until she also bled to death, gasping for air each time he let her take a breath.

“The little boy, he just beat. Nothing truly, er, perverted, just a five or six year old sobbing because he had no idea what he had done wrong. But then there was the baby...”

Harry stopped and shook his head. “Sorry, but I think I have to be a hell of a lot more than just blind drunk to tell you what happened to that poor little six month old girl.”

“ _Fuck..._ ” Draco swore, his eyes wide in horror.

“Yeah...” Harry agreed softly.

Draco tackled Harry to the bed and held him tight. “And so you escaped?”

“No... he let me go. And... And I receive tiny severed fingers from time to time,” Harry added with an anguished sob.

“ _Harry_...”

Thankfully, Harry was much better about accepting comfort than Draco was. They simply held each other and rubbed one another's backs for a long time. Eventually, the alcohol numbed their feelings and they managed to take deeply cleansing breaths.

“So... when do you want to have that baby?” Harry wondered nearly an hour later. By this point, the brandy was wearing off.

“About two years ago,” Draco replied with a huffed laugh.

“Do you have a time turner then?” Harry asked with a playful shove.

“Er... I cannot confirm nor deny that to the bloody Deputy Head Auror.”

Harry stared at Draco as he wondered if he was being serious. Then he sighed. “Fine. Fair enough. But Merlin! If you ever use it, be so bloody careful that I never find out about it, because sending you to Azkaban would  _really_ put a damper on our marriage.”

“Agreed,” Draco murmured. “Anyway, I suppose that I can wait as long as you need to have those kids I want.”

“So you want more than one?” Harry asked with a grin.

“I do,” Draco confirmed with a smile. “Not as many as the Weasleys, mind, but two. Maybe three.”

Harry kissed Draco tenderly. “And do you want me to tell you when I'm ready to take the potion, or do you want me to just surprise you with it when it works?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “For the first one, at the very least, I would prefer to know that it's going to happen from the moment you summon the fertility potion and drink it down.”

“You mean like this?” Harry asked as he waved his hand over the bedside drawer and summoned a vial, which he promptly downed.

Draco gasped incredulously – not only because of what Harry had just done, but also because his own body had reacted to it by getting hard so fast he felt like the world was spinning. “Fuck Harry! Warn a bloke!”

Harry laughed, and then kissed his husband.

Draco wasted no time taking advantage of the fact that Harry was still soft and pliant from their earlier shagging. When he was buried deep, he paused to kiss his rash and impulsive Gryffindor.

Harry smiled at him. “I love you, you realize that, right?”

Draco inhaled a gasp and rested his head on Harry's chest. Then he mumbled: “I love you too.”

Elated, Harry kissed him. “So... are you planning to get me pregnant any time soon?”

Draco bit his neck as a punishment for being so impertinent. Then he rolled his eyes. “No, I thought I'd wait until our 100 th anniversary.”

“In that case, I sincerely hope that I'm still rather spry and in shape,” Harry stated.

“Oh shut up and kiss me you bloody ar –” He was cut short by the requested kiss. After the somewhat awe inspiring stamina fueled by alcohol and recentish orgasms wore off, they collapsed onto the bed and passed out before they had a chance to drive themselves insane wondering if the potion had worked.

Thirty-seven weeks later, they held the proof that it had.

“I decided on Albus, and since I created him with my body, I get to name him whatever I bloody well like!” 

Draco growled, and then sighed. “Fine,  _if_ I can name this one Scorpius.”

“Fine, but don't blame me if he cries because everyone teases him!” Harry argued.

“I plan to raise him so that he knows for certain that he doesn't need to give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks,” Draco informed Harry haughtily.

“Now _that_ is something I can get behind!” Harry replied with a grin.

“Would you kindly not swear around your _babies_?” Hermione asked, torn between amusement and propriety.

“I think that might be a lost cause,” Millie opined.

“At least it's not as bad as I imagine it'll be for _that_ one,” Ron said, pointing at the quaffle sized bulge in Pansy's abdomen.

Theo snorted. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure bloody fucking buggering hell is going to be that one's first words!”

Blaise roared with laughter as Pansy glared at Theo. 

“I can, er... cast a silencing spell on her ears,” Pansy insisted petulantly.

Blaise kissed her. “Then she'll grow up thinking she's deaf!”

“Maybe you should just cast a silencing spell on your mouth,” Millie suggested.

“Fuck you!” Pansy told her off.

“Later,” Millie stated with a shrug.

“I don't need that image in my head!” Theo groaned, repulsed.

“It's actually beautiful to see,” Greg murmured before taking a bite of the sandwich he had just finished making from a leftover pot roast in Harry's stasis box.

“That reminds me!” Hermione exclaimed. “Ron and I were wondering if we could get invitations to your next – do you call it a Christmas or a New Years party?”

“We call it our fucking party,” Blaise replied with a laugh.

“And why not?” Pansy added with a shrug. “But _only_ if you promise to either leave if you can't handle it or actually participate if you can.”

“We can certainly try,” Hermione assured her with a smile.

“I'll have a team of Aurors on standby if Ron starts looking murderous,” Harry informed them.

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

Blaise slung an arm over Draco's shoulder. “What's it going to take for me to convince you to drag your husband along? Did I mention that I have an Island in the Caribbean?”

“I _told_ you!” Draco blurted out, pointing at Harry.

“I'm not going to do that at a party!” Harry cried out with a blush. “If – _IF,_ mind you – I were ever going to do anything like that, it would be in the privacy of our bedroom and not in front of every witch and wizard in the UK!”

“Oh no, not all of them,” Pansy assured him. “Only the kinkiest bastards and bitches who'll be eager to line up for a turn with boy wonder.”

Ron blushed, which was inexplicable until he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “We, er... we carry a potion that could help with that.”

“You wha...?” Harry questioned in confusion.

“A stamina potion,” Ron clarified, and then cleared his throat. “And George is developing a spell to, er, prevent, er, _finishing_ until the one who cast the spell takes it off.”

Blaise pulled a pouch out of his pocket and tossed it at Ron. “I'm investing in that right now, and actually, I have ideas that it sounds like you and your brother might be interested in hearing.”

Draco sighed as if sorely put out. “If Blaise is investing in it, then it's a guaranteed return, which means that I also have to invest in it.”

Ron caught the pouch Draco tossed him and looked at the ceiling. “Who would have ever thought that Malfoy and Zabini would be throwing money at me like this?”

“You should strip off and earn it like a Slytherin,” Daphne suggested, winking at him.

Astoria hugged her sister in congratulations at a brilliant idea. “And then we can both invest too and write it off as business entertainment expenses!”

Ron was now rather pale and staring at them in mild horror.

Hermione laughed and gave her husband a kiss.

“Relax Weasley. No one really wants to see your freckled arse,” Theo assured him.

“Speak for yourself,” Pansy told him off frostily. “I happen to find freckled arses attractive.”

“So that's Daphne, Astoria, Pansy, and me,” Millie enumerated. “More than likely Blaise, and what about you Draco? I think we already have a majority even without you.”

Draco shrugged. “Not my first choice, but I wouldn't be too horrified by it either.”

Ron was looking around the room in horror again. Seeing that the majority of them were staring at him expectantly, he gulped. “I think I'm going to need a shot or two of firewhiskey before I can work up the nerve to do this.”

Harry laughed. “And did it not occur to you that you can just say no?”

Ron shook his head and held up the two pouches in his hand. “When you have practically the entire year of Slytherins throwing their enormous wealth at you, you don't turn it down out of squeamish modesty!”

Greg sighed and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey out of the cupboard, which he opened and handed to Ron. “This is just like Seventh Year all over again.”

“What?” Hermione asked in shock.

Blaise chuckled. “He means in our House. We had to relieve our stress somehow! Pretty sure none of the other houses invented practically every version of stripping games possible.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shook their heads in amusement and muttered: “Slytherins!”

After downing at least three or four shots worth, Ron set the bottle aside and took a deep breath. Pansy, Millie, Daphne, and Astoria began clapping the beat that had been the most popular during all their stripping games. Blaise and Draco followed suit a moment later, and then – after a long suffering sigh – Theo chimed in with the accompanying beatboxing.

Turning redder than he could ever remember being before, Ron took a deep breath, held it, and then unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands. After the third button, the beat got to him, making him bounce a little and try to perform a sexy dance.

Laughing merrily, Hermione and Harry joined in on the clapping and beatboxing that everyone else was now doing too. Strangely, all the noise did not wake the sleeping infants as one might have assumed. They both snuggled in their carriers without a care in the world.

By the time Ron was down to his pants, he had really thrown his all into the performance. Despite being unskilled and rather corny, everyone cheered him on because he was now obviously having fun with it. When he slid his pants off, he winked cheekily and tossed them to Blaise as a dubious reward for starting this whole fiasco. Blaise grinned and pocketed the pants as he looked Ron over.

“Have to love a wizard who can shake it like that,” Blaise pronounced with a flirty expression.

Ron blushed again and rolled his eyes. A few minutes later, he was sitting at the table wearing only his button up shirt and socks, counting his earnings. He finished with round eyes and whispered to his wife: “I think I just earned more in the last ten minutes than I did all last year.”

“Do you want to explain to George how you convinced so many Slytherins to invest in Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, or shall I?” Harry asked with a smirk.

Ron blushed yet again. “You can! And please do it when I'm not around!”

“He'll only tease you more,” Hermione reminded him with a kiss.

“Have you ever tried to play connect the dots with the freckles on his arse,” Pansy asked as she slung an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

“Actually no,” Hermione answered with a look that clearly wondered why she hadn't ever thought of that.

“I just decided on a new party game!” Pansy crowed gleefully as she slapped Ron on the back.

Mortified, Ron was infinitely glad that Harry decided to change the subject by revealing an enormous carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. 

“Who's hungry?”

All hands promptly went into the air, even Greg's - who was still working on his second sandwich. With a smile, Harry dished them all up. He was surprised by the way his life had turned out, but he couldn't exactly complain about it either. For absolutely no reason at all, he grabbed Draco by the collar of his shirt and seized a demanding kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> GODS! I *wish* I had a half dozen or so friends who would agree to read this whole damn story *in character* lol!   
> Plus, I wouldn't mind a Ron impersonator reenacting that last scene for me :-D


End file.
